


teach me how you look

by violaceum_vitellina_viridis



Series: yule gift fics [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (kind of), Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Bottom Eskel (The Witcher), Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Knotting, Leshen Jaskier | Dandelion, Leshens (The Witcher), M/M, Monster Jaskier | Dandelion, Monsterfucker Eskel (The Witcher), Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Vines, Wolves, belly bulge, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, see notes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27873898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Summary: Eskel doesn’t know that Jaskier is looking for him until the leshen-turned-bard finds him.Eskel has heard his brothers' stories, and is plenty curious.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: yule gift fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038730
Comments: 51
Kudos: 316





	teach me how you look

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andrewminyards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrewminyards/gifts).



> whoo day 3
> 
> this one, fittingly, is for steph lmao. she started the leshen!jaskier nonsense and now we're here. love you darling :D

Eskel doesn’t know that Jaskier is looking for him until the leshen-turned-bard finds him.

He’s digging amongst the roots of a tree for some potion ingredients, swords leaning against the trunk, when he smells him. Except…not. It smells like Jaskier, like the smell that Geralt comes to Kaer Morhen covered in every winter, but it’s…different. Darker, earthier, almost blending into the smell of the forest around him. It’s like nothing Eskel has ever smelled before, and the intrigue of that, the newness, has him hooked almost immediately.

When he stands and turns, there’s nothing and no one to be seen.

For a moment.

Jaskier – it has to be Jaskier – appears out of the trees with a rustle and the cracking of twigs. He’s small, shorter than Eskel is, but other than that, he looks exactly like Geralt and Lambert described. Beautiful golden-brown antlers covered in vines, flowers, and moss; luminous blue eyes; pale, green-tinted skin, and brown-green body hair; rough-furred, bark-like arms and legs; claws at his fingertips and hooves instead of feet, the same golden-brown as his antlers.

“I was told you’d be bigger,” Eskel blurts out. Jaskier laughs, fangs glinting in the dappled mid-afternoon light, and suddenly _grows,_ nearly quadrupling in size, until he towers over Eskel, exactly as large as his brothers had described. Eskel’s medallion vibrates so hard it jumps against his chest.

“ _Oh._ ” Eskel breathes, cock twitching, and Jaskier laughs again. Just as suddenly as he’d grown, he shrinks once more, back to being about four, maybe five inches shorter than Eskel. “You can…change your size?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Jaskier says, “ _though there’s an upper limit. That, what I just showed you, is the biggest I can be; how big I really am. But sometimes, it’s more convenient to be smaller._ ” Eskel notices for the first time that Jaskier’s voice does seem like an echo and a whisper all at once. The dichotomy of it makes him shiver slightly.

“Smaller, but not completely human?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier smirks. “ _Yes._ ” He steps a little closer, that scent wafting on a breeze toward Eskel, and his cock twitches again. “ _See, there’s something about you that Geralt told me…._ ”

“What’s that?”

Jaskier drops to his knees in a single, graceful movement, and Eskel’s breath hitches. “ _You like horns,_ ” Jaskier answers. “ _Tell me, do antlers measure up?_ ”

Without even thinking, Eskel reaches out and grabs at the base of each antler, the velvet slightly prickly against his palms. Jaskier shudders at the grip, but relaxes into it, and Eskel tugs, just a little, to feel the way Jaskier follows the pull.

“ _Yes,_ ” Eskel murmurs, half-moan, and Jaskier grins up at him. There’s a light touch at his knees, and then the feeling of Jaskier’s claws catching at the laces of Eskel’s breeches.

“ _Good,_ ” Jaskier says, and then he’s tugging at the laces, pulling them away. Eskel’s hands remain wrapped around his antlers, useless, as he tries to keep a hold on his breathing and heartrate. Jaskier seems intent on ruining his effort, though, tugging until Eskel’s breeches and smallclothes both fall to his knees. He’s not hard, not yet, but Jaskier doesn’t seem concerned about it, ducking forward slightly and tonguing at the soft head of him.

“Oh fuck,” Eskel grunts, unable to stop himself from pulling Jaskier a little closer with his antlers. He tries to pry his fingers away from the solid, velvet-covered bone, opens his mouth to apologize, but he doesn’t get any farther than a sharp breath before Jaskier is taking his cock into his mouth.

There’s the slight, threatening prickle of fangs, but no pain, just soft, wet heat and suction. Eskel _whimpers,_ eyes squeezing shut as the feeling nearly overwhelms him. His cock is throbbing rapidly to life in Jaskier’s mouth, but Jaskier doesn’t pull back or even seem to care that it’s threatening at his throat. He just keeps sucking softly, bobbing his head back and forth a little.

“Fuck, fuck, _Jaskier,_ ” Eskel pants, squeezing at the antlers still gripped in his hands. He feels the way Jaskier shudders and he groans at the realization that they’re _sensitive,_ groans again when stroking his thumbs up and down while pressing makes Jaskier moan around his cock. “ _Gods._ ”

Jaskier hums around him, pulling back far enough to leave just the head of Eskel’s cock in his mouth. He tongues at the slit, making Eskel’s knees wobble, and then pulls off. Eskel’s eyes flutter open to look at him and find him looking smug and _hungry._

“ _Go on,_ ” he says, dragging one claw lightly over Eskel’s wrist, where his pulse is damn near visible. “ _Move me like you want to, darling._ ”

Eskel moans, grip tightening on the antlers again. He watches as Jaskier’s inhuman blue eyes roll a little and moans all over again, unable to stop himself from yanking the leshen forward. Jaskier doesn’t complain, just takes Eskel’s cock back into his mouth, sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks. Eskel gives a few slow, soft thrusts, tugging Jaskier’s head in counterpoint. Jaskier just goes along with it, lashes fluttering each time Eskel pushes almost to his throat.

“Fuck,” Eskel hisses, and starts to move faster. Jaskier just groans, the odd quality of his voice making it just that much better, as if Eskel can feel the vibration of the sound not just around his cock but up his spine. “Fuck, Jaskier, want more. Can I, please?”

Jaskier pulls all the way back again, just to say, in a commanding voice that Eskel feels in his _bones,_ “ _Take it, Witcher._ ”

Eskel does as he’s told, planting his feet a little more firmly and pulling Jaskier back onto his cock. Jaskier takes it easily, even as Eskel pushes into his throat, and Eskel can’t help the growl that spills from him. After that first deep thrust, he lets go of his inhibitions, moving his hips and arms in tandem to properly fuck Jaskier’s throat. The bard doesn’t gag or choke, but he is drooling, making a mess of his chin and Eskel’s balls.

“Fuck _,_ ” Eskel bites out, pulling until Jaskier’s nose is pressed against his belly and then dropping one hand down to his throat. He can feel the shape of himself distending it, and pressing against the bulge sends a flare of pleasure through him. Jaskier makes some kind of low, inhuman sound, and Eskel tilts his head to find that the leshen is hard, pretty cock leaking onto the ground between his knees. “ _Fuck._ ”

He keeps one hand on Jaskier’s throat, grip not too tight but much tighter than Eskel would ever hold a human, and keeps moving. Jaskier just makes that same inhuman noise again, and when his eyes open they’re practically glowing, light not dimmed by the way his lashes flutter with each thrust.

“ _Close,_ ” Eskel grits out, when he can’t ignore the tightness at the base of his spine anymore. Jaskier makes another noise, hands coming up to wrap around his thighs, claws pressing just slightly as he tugs Eskel a little closer. A silent order Eskel knows, and his eyes slam shut, hips jerking a little faster with the permission.

He hears the rustling but ignores it in favor of focusing on his pleasure as it spirals higher and higher. It isn’t until he’s so close to the edge his senses are starting to fizzle that he realizes something else is with them, something that’s close to him, close enough to touch. There’s something cold and wet against his spine, something wetter but _warmer,_ almost hot, prodding between his cheeks. He can’t focus enough to figure it out, though, as his orgasm crashes through him like a tsunami, cock flexing inside Jaskier’s throat and against his hand as he finally spills.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ ” he whines. It seems like it goes on forever, with Jaskier’s throat squeezing around him and that _something_ warm and wet against his hole now, pleasure like an inferno burning up his spine. It’s only as he starts to come down that he realizes what’s at his back, and his stomach swoops at both the realization and the sensation of the wolf’s tongue pushing _inside_ him. “ _Jaskier!_ ”

His cock slips out of Jaskier’s throat, out of his mouth, and his knees buckle, but Jaskier catches him somehow. He’s lowered to the ground gently, slowly, until his face is pressed to Jaskier’s thigh. The wolf keeps tongue-fucking him, _Jaskier_ keeps tongue-fucking him _with_ the wolf, and Eskel shudders so hard his armor creaks. Jaskier’s cock presses against his jaw, his neck, when the bard leans forward and starts unbuckling his armor. Eskel turns his head slightly and mouths at the base of it, sloppy and breathless as the wolf’s tongue sinks deeper, _deeper._ Jaskier groans, the sound all-encompassing, and sharp claws leave stinging little marks on Eskel’s back where his gambeson and his shirt have ridden up.

“ _Such a good Witcher,_ ” Jaskier rumbles, as he begins pulling pieces of Eskel’s armor away and tossing them aside. His shirt and undershirt follow, until he’s all but naked, pants and smallclothes still around his knees, hobbling him. Jaskier doesn’t seem interested in changing that. Instead, he drags one clawed hand up Eskel’s back, until it tangles into Eskel’s hair and _grips,_ hard enough to sting. Eskel makes a short, sharp noise, following easily when the grip turns into a pull. “ _Pretty Witcher, even prettier mouth._ ”

Eskel shudders and whines, opening his mouth easily when the head of Jaskier’s cock bumps against his lips. Jaskier feeds it to him slowly, making low, growling noises with each inch Eskel takes. He’s desperate for it, wanting to be full at both ends.

“ _Feel so good, Eskel,_ ” Jaskier praises. “ _Look even better._ ” His cock finally pushes into Eskel’s throat, just enough to make him nearly gag, but he suppresses it and goes further, until his nose is buried in coarse, moss-colored hair. Some rapid swallowing makes Jaskier’s hips jerk, and Eskel fumbles to get his arms under himself so he can _move._

Jaskier doesn’t let him, though, instead burying his other hand in Eskel’s hair and moving his head himself, just as the wolf’s tongue suddenly disappears from Eskel’s ass. He doesn’t have time to even miss it, really, as the wolf is mounting him in the next heartbeat, cock thick and hot against his ass. He moans around Jaskier’s cock and tips his hips up, pressing back.

The wolf ruts for a moment before the tip catches and pushes in. It burns, the stretch just slightly too much, but it just makes Eskel’s eyes roll back. He loses his hard-won control for a moment and gags on Jaskier’s next thrust, but the leshen doesn’t bother to stop, and neither does the wolf he’s controlling.

He can barely breathe past Jaskier fucking his face, past the wolf working him open on its cock, and he doesn’t even _care._ His cock is throbbing and he’s already close again, just from this, the sensation of being used while Jaskier rumbles above him.

“ _Perfect, just like your brothers, all of you are so perfect for me,_ ” he praises between growls, and Eskel whimpers for it, muffled and choked around Jaskier’s cock. The wolf’s knot starts to inflate, starts to _catch,_ and Eskel’s head spins at the pain that blends seamlessly into the pleasure. “ _Feel so good around my cocks, Eskel._ ”

Eskel just moans and whines, jerking each time the wolf’s knot presses inside and then pulls out, again and again until it finally swells so far it can’t pull out. The orgasm it triggers takes him by surprise, and he gags around Jaskier’s cock again. Jaskier just groans thunderously and presses him down, down, until he’s buried in coarse hair again. Even pleasure-soaked and flying high as he is, Eskel can feel the way Jaskier’s cock flexes, can feel the hot slick of cum down his throat.

He goes limp, fucked and filled at both ends, and Jaskier groans again, clawed fingers scratching lightly and pleasingly against Eskel’s scalp.

Jaskier pulls out of his mouth when he’s finished, moving so Eskel’s head falls back onto his thigh. Eskel whimpers against the soft-rough skin there, still drooling a little.

“ _Do you want more, darling?_ ” Jaskier asks, and Eskel shudders, feeling the wolf’s knot start to deflate.

“Please,” he breathes. “Want more, want you but – _you,_ the real you.”

Jaskier hums, and the sound shivers down Eskel’s spine as the wolf finally pulls away. There’s rustling nearby, likely more wolves, and Eskel whimpers. “ _That could mean two different things,_ ” he says. “ _Me, like earlier? Or really me, the monster I really am?_ ”

Eskel whines, hips jerking. “Both?” he asks, voice a little whiny, and Jaskier laughs.

“ _Whatever you’d like, love. But not quite yet._ ”

There’s the soft pad of steps, and then Eskel feels the warmth of another wolf. Jaskier stays where he is, even as the wolf presses Eskel harder into him when it mounts, soft paws on his shoulders an interesting counter sensation to the sharp prick of its claws. Its cock manages to catch on the first rut forward, pressing in slower than the last but still fast, fast enough that Eskel barely manages to suck in a breath before he’s being fucked again, rough and quick and so, so good.

“Jaskier, Jaskier, please,” he whines, and Jaskier just coos softly, claws stroking through his hair.

“ _So good for me, Eskel, look so wonderful impaled on that cock._ ”

The praise burns through him almost hotter than the pleasure, and he wails, nails digging furrows into the soft forest floor as the second wolf’s cock presses brutally over his prostate. Above him, the wolf growls in response and fucks faster, harder. Eskel’s knees slip and somehow the wolf pushes _deeper,_ enough that Eskel can feel the way his stomach moves with each thrust, and his cock is twitching, throbbing hot and needy between his thighs.

“ _Look so pretty when you feel good, darling. Want you to come for me again, want to wring you dry and then make you take even more still._ ”

“Please, _please,_ ” Eskel begs, wailing again as the wolf’s knot catches. It’s bigger than the last, and when the wolf keeps moving, grinding the swell of it against Eskel’s prostate, he’s done for. The orgasm scorches through him like lightning, blinding and white-hot, balls throbbing painfully as he spills again. He can go more times before he runs dry, he knows, but he has the feeling that those few more times are going to come and go very, very quickly.

Even just the _thought_ of it makes him moan.

“ _How many wolves should I make you take, darling? Geralt took five, Lambert six. Do you think you could take seven? Or should I leave you just a little tighter, so you really feel my cock? Hm?_ ”

“Want – want you,” Eskel pants, whining when the second wolf’s cock deflates and it leaves.

Jaskier hums. “ _I know, love._ ”

A third wolf is snuffling at his hole quickly enough, a burning hot tongue licking up the cum leaking out of him before it mounts him as well. It ruts against him for a bit, cock a thick, searing tease as it rubs against his gaping, sensitive hole. He sobs, tilting his hips, trying to encourage the head to catch as it passes by his hole each time. Finally, _finally,_ the tip catches and the wolf fucks in, brutal and quick from the start. Eskel just sobs again and clings to Jaskier’s thighs, hiccupping through broken moans with each violent thrust.

“ _One more after this, darling, and then I’ll give you what you want._ ”

Eskel doesn’t even bother trying to make sense of that – considering everything he knows about Jaskier, there’s no way four wolves would be enough to prepare him. But it doesn’t matter. Geralt and Lambert trusted Jaskier enough to have let him do this to them, so _he_ trusts Jaskier, too.

Also, it’s incredibly hard to string together higher logical thought when he’s being fucked so well.

The third wolf’s knot starts to catch, and this one fucks him on the swell of it like the first. He whimpers at each press, the stretch too-much and so good he’s seeing stars. In and out, each pointed thrust an entire-body shock until the wolf howls and presses in, in, so deep Eskel is sure he’s going to _choke_ on it, and finally locks. He swears he can feel the heat and flood of cum, and he’s tipping over the edge again, somehow.

“Jaskier, _fuck,_ ” he whines, teeth sinking into Jaskier’s thigh as his body convulses. The wolf whines, too, the contractions of Eskel’s ass making it rut forward, forward, since it can’t pull back at all. Each movement just makes the pleasure sharper, makes it go on longer, and Eskel feels tears streaking his face.

“ _One more, Eskel, one more, and then you’re mine._ ”

“ _Please,_ ” Eskel begs, shuddering when the third wolf’s knot starts to deflate. He feels so empty without it, even emptier when the wolf leaves. He can hear the fourth approaching but it’s not _fast_ enough. “Please, empty, want more, _want more._ ”

Jaskier makes a low sound, something Eskel can’t even pin down a name for, and those clawed hands are in his hair again. “ _Greedy,_ ” Jaskier rumbles, and Eskel is being moved by his hair once more, Jaskier’s cock pressing at his lips. It’s bigger now, which should be impossible but Eskel knows it _isn’t._

Despite the hold on his hair, Jaskier mostly lets Eskel set the pace this time. Eskel doesn’t really bother with hiding his enthusiasm, going down too quickly just as the fourth wolf _finally_ reaches him and forgetting to control his gag. The pressure has Jaskier’s hips jerking, though, has the leshen making a high, wounded noise, so Eskel keeps going. He lets his control go, tipping his hips back for the wolf and letting himself choke on Jaskier’s thick cock.

The wolf’s rutting makes him rock, and he follows the rhythm of it. Jaskier’s cock sinks into his throat with a wet sound, loud in Eskel’s ears, and he chokes but doesn’t pull back. Jaskier growls, loud enough that the ground shakes a little, and claws dig into the nape of Eskel’s neck.

“ _Even more of a slut than your brother,_ ” he snarls. Eskel doesn’t bother wondering which brother he’s talking about. There are more important things to focus on, like swallowing around Jaskier’s cock, and the feeling of the wolf rutting against his aching hole.

He has to pull back from Jaskier’s cock to take in a shaky breath, but he only goes as far as the head, digging his tongue into the slit and drooling messily down the shaft. Jaskier shudders, bright blue eyes sharp on Eskel’s face.

When the wolf’s cock finally catches, its first vicious thrust sends Eskel forward again, making him gag and choke around the sudden intrusion of Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier growls and puts a hand on the back of his head, pushing him further, until there’s no more for Eskel to take, lips stretched around the base and nose smashed into Jaskier’s belly.

“ _Just like that,_ ” Jaskier says, voice dark as it vibrates through Eskel’s senses, “ _just like that. Let me fill you until you’re dripping with it, darling._ ”

Eskel wants to tell him yes, wants to beg for it, but he can’t. Instead, he just goes limp, lets himself swallow and choke and gag around the cock in his throat with each thrust from the wolf.

Time stretches and loses meaning. At some point Jaskier pulls Eskel up, lets him suck in a breath, and then yanks him back down. The wolf huffs and snarls above him, knot swelling so slowly that Eskel gets to feel each new inch of stretch when it pushes in and pulls back out.

“ _Going to fill you up again, Eskel,_ ” Jaskier promises. “ _From both ends, and then I’m going to make you sit on my cock and ride me, fuck yourself open on it._ ”

Once more, Eskel can’t do anything to beg, so he just makes a low sound around Jaskier’s cock lodged in his throat, limp between where he’s being fucked by the wolf and held by Jaskier’s claw-tipped fingers. He chokes when the wolf’s knot finally catches. Jaskier pulls him up just long enough to gasp in a breath, and then he’s being pushed back down and Jaskier is coming, too.

He goes dizzy with his own orgasm, only managing to swallow the flood of Jaskier’s cum because his body does it automatically. When Jaskier pulls him off again, he collapses against the bard’s thigh once more, drooling and delirious as his body jolts with aftershocks that make the wolf over his back whine.

“Jaskier, Jaskier,” Eskel mumbles, slurred and nearly shapeless around the numbness of his lips. Jaskier just chuckles, low and predatory. Clawed fingers pet through his hair until finally the fourth wolf’s knot goes down and the beast leaves him feeling empty and cold.

“ _Up, love,_ ” Jaskier almost _coos_ the order, hands curving around Eskel’s shoulders to push him up. It takes several minutes and a bit of shifting for Eskel to sit back on his knees. “ _Good. Come here, now, darling._ ”

Jaskier gestures him forward, and Eskel shuffles closer, still hobbled by his breeches and smallclothes that are tangled over his calves now. When he’s close enough, Jaskier reaches out and shoves at his inner thighs, forcing him to spread his legs wider, feet going together to compensate for where his pants are still restricting him. Jaskier pulls him closer, until he’s awkwardly straddling the leshen’s knees, and then he’s leaning forward, dragging sharp teeth along Eskel’s collar at the same time that he drags one sharp claw along the fabric hobbling Eskel and rips it in two.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Eskel hisses, tipping his head back as his hands shoot out to grab at Jaskier’s shoulders, gripping probably too tight. Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he just grips around the backs of Eskel’s thighs to pull him even further forward.

Eskel shuffles along with the pull, just following Jaskier’s silent directions, until he finds himself straddling Jaskier’s hips with the leshen propped up on his elbows below him. He groans and drags his hands down from Jaskier’s shoulders, over his chest and ribs, feeling the contained magic that’s practically vibrating below his skin with the same frequency as Eskel’s medallion. Shifting back and dropping his hips just slightly slots Jaskier’s cock, still wet from Eskel’s mouth, between his cheeks.

“ _Just like that, Eskel,_ ” Jaskier says, eyes burning when they meet Eskel’s. “ _Want you to ride me._ ” Clawed fingers dig into Eskel’s hips, tugging him up again, until Jaskier can line up.

The slide is painless, _effortless,_ with how open and wet Eskel is after four wolves. He whines and shudders in Jaskier’s hold, thighs trembling when he’s seated. Jaskier’s big, yes, but it’s not _enough,_ and he’s whining under his breath, a continuous, desperate sound.

Jaskier chuckles and bucks his hips. Eskel’s whine is cut off with a shout as he jolts forward, nails digging into Jaskier’s chest as he tries to keep himself upright.

“ _Go on,_ ” Jaskier encourages, lifting Eskel’s hips a little and then dropping him. Eskel gurgles, hands spasming on Jaskier’s chest for a second, and then he manages to relocate control of his own body and move by himself.

It’s still not enough, not nearly, but Eskel is desperate for it anyway. Jaskier hums, the sound feeling like a physical touch, and starts to rock his hips along with Eskel’s choppy rhythm, claws still digging little bleeding lines into his hips.

“Jaskier, Jaskier, _please,_ ” Eskel gasps, not even sure what he’s asking for, but Jaskier chuckles and then something – changes. Eskel’s medallion jerks, and on the next thrust Jaskier is _bigger,_ and Eskel’s head spins. “ _Oh,_ oh fuck, Jaskier – ”

“ _Keep going, wolf._ ”

Eskel does, ignoring the burn in his thighs and the trembling in his arms as he moves faster. Every few thrusts Jaskier’s cock gets bigger, bigger, until finally Eskel can feel the stretch again. He whines, loud and broken, at the sensation. Jaskier’s chuckle feels like a caress.

Finally, after several long, breathless minutes, he goes from just feeling the stretch again to it being a _struggle_ again, and he whimpers, stilling where he’s barely seated on the head of Jaskier’s cock. “Jaskier,” he breathes, punchy. Jaskier chuckles again.

“ _You can do it, wolf, come on,_ ” he encourages, dragging his claws lightly over Eskel’s belly, his ribs. “ _Do you need help, love?_ ”

“I – I, yeah,” Eskel pants. “Yes, please.”

“ _Of course, darling._ ”

There’s the sound of shifting leaves and creaking branches, and then Jaskier uses his renewed grip on Eskel’s hips to lift him, until he’s sat all the way up on his knees and empty. He makes a soft, desperate sound, struggling a little, and Jaskier hushes him.

“ _Patience,_ ” the leshen chides. “ _Let me help you._ ”

Eskel hums, a wordless agreement, and stills. There’s more shifting, the underbrush moving as something comes nearer and nearer. Eskel looks around a little but can seem to find where the noise is coming from, _what_ it is, until something smooth and – and _slick_ is curling around his ankle.

He turns slightly, feeling a little wobbly even with Jaskier’s iron grip on him, to find a blunt-tipped vine slowly sliding up his leg, leaving a streak of slick behind. It winds around his thigh, teasing at his balls, then disappears between his cheeks.

“ _Oh!_ ”

At first it’s just teasing, the vine too thin to do much but slick him up as it pushes maybe an inch in and then pulls out. But then it changes, too, just like Jaskier’s cock, slowly getting bigger and bigger with each thrust, getting _slicker,_ too, and Eskel whimpers, collapsing around Jaskier’s hold on his hips to press his face into the leshen’s neck.

“ _Feel good?_ ” Jaskier asks.

Eskel just whines, something vaguely affirmative but entirely wordless. It _does_ feel good, feels fucking _incredible,_ the vine slick enough that there’s wetness spilling down his thighs as it fucks him, almost as wide as Jaskier’s cock, now, but _painless,_ somehow. Eskel doesn’t know what’s happening to his body as the heat in his blood ratchets suddenly _up,_ the desperation suddenly peaking.

He squirms with a long, drawn out groan. “Jaskier, Jaskier, please – please, more, need _more._ ”

Jaskier chuckles. “ _Greedy little thing,_ ” he says. “ _Sit up again, love._ ”

It’s a struggle for a moment, but Eskel manages to sit up, thighs trembling as the vine slowly slips out of him, leaving him even sloppier than the wolves had. Jaskier pulls him around until his cock is lined up again, just as big as before, and Eskel whimpers as he’s slowly, _slowly_ pushed down.

“Oh, oh fuck,” he gasps. The slick the vine left behind makes the slide frictionless, but the stretch is still there, burning through his muscles but in the _best_ way, now. “Oh, Jaskier, _fuck._ ”

“ _Almost there,_ ” Jaskier murmurs. Eskel whines and jerks his hips, just a little, forcing himself down a bit more. Jaskier lets out something like a growl and a laugh all at once. “ _So desperate for it, Eskel. Go on, ride me again._ ”

Jaskier’s hands leave his hips, and Eskel groans loud enough to startle some birds into the sky as he slowly but surely sinks down to the base of Jaskier’s cock.

“ _Full,_ ” he pants, eyes rolling. His arms feel like lead, but he manages to bring one hand up to his belly, where he can feel Jaskier’s cock pressing out from inside him. “So full, oh, fuck, _please._ ” Hand still cupped over where his belly is distended, Eskel forces his thighs into motion, lifting just a little and then dropping, quick and sharp. The sensation is like being punched, sharp and too much and _so good._ His cock throbs.

“ _Just like that,_ ” Jaskier purrs, and so Eskel does it again, and again, and again, until he’s properly rocking up and down in Jaskier’s lap, fucking himself and feeling the way Jaskier’s cock pushes so deep he can practically taste it. “ _Good, Eskel, yes. Going to ruin you, wolf._ ”

“Please,” Eskel whimpers, and on the next push down Jaskier’s cock gets somehow _bigger._ Jaskier does, too, getting taller and wider, until Eskel’s hips can’t take the strain of straddling him anymore. He collapses forward, Jaskier’s cock still half-inside him, and shifts one leg up so it’s more hooked over Jaskier’s side than wrapped around his hip.

Jaskier laughs, loud and pleased, and the world spins as he moves them until Eskel is on his back in the dirt, empty and whimpering for it. Jaskier’s hands wrap around his waist and pull him up, _up,_ until it’s just his shoulders resting on the ground, his legs dangling back above him uselessly.

“ _Take all of me so easily, wolf, look at you,_ ” Jaskier says, cock pressing back into Eskel’s wrecked hole. Eskel moans and sobs and tries to press back into the pressure, but he _can’t,_ Jaskier’s hold on him absolute. He’s being used like a toy, and he feels his cock throb dangerously, precum splattering onto his face as it jerks. “ _Still want more, darling? Want to fuck me in my true form?_ ”

Eskel wails. “ _Please,_ please.” He doesn’t know what Jaskier’s true form entails, aside from what he’s seen os leshen before, but he doesn’t care. He just wants more, wants to be fucked into complete oblivion like Geralt and Lambert talked about.

“ _Good,_ ” Jaskier rumbles. “ _Be a good boy and open your mouth._ ”

He does as he’s told, and almost as soon as he’s relaxed his jaw there’s a vine pushing at his lips, coating them in something slick and sickeningly sweet. He sucks at the tip of it curiously and feels his stomach drop at the sudden, _intense_ desperation that settles in his bones.

He tries to beg, to plead around the vine, but he can’t. It sinks into his mouth, into his _throat,_ the slide easy at this angle and with the thick wetness of the aphrodisiac it’s feeding him. His throat bulges around it the same way that his stomach bulges around Jaskier’s cock and suddenly he’s coming, the world whiting out as he spasms and chokes and covers himself in his own cum.

The vine is gone when he swims back to his senses, but he’s still so desperate, full of cock and still wanting more. He tips his head up to find that Jaskier doesn’t look like Jaskier anymore, not really; his face is thinning while Eskel watches, shifting until it’s not longer human, it’s animal. A deer skull, a proper _leshen,_ and Eskel feels the shape of the cock inside his guts, change too.

“Oh, oh fuck, Jaskier, please,” he babbles, and he knows Jaskier laughs but he can’t hear it, he just _feels_ it, as if the forest is laughing. The leshen pulls out of him, back and back and back until finally his cock pops out of Eskel’s hole. It doesn’t look like a cock anymore, not really – it’s long and phallic and has a clear head, but it’s also clearly made of wood, like the vines, leaking the same kind of slick. There’s a flared ridge along the bottom of the ‘head’, and random bumps and knots along the shaft, all practically knot-sized themselves but uneven and irregular.

Eskel finds himself panting, trying to squirm in Jaskier’s sharp-clawed hold. “Please, please,” he begs. “Need it, please fuck me, _please,_ want to feel it, Jaskier, please.”

There’s that laugh-that-isn’t again, and then there’s Jaskier’s voice again, but darker, rougher, and Eskel isn’t _hearing_ it. He’s _thinking_ it. Jaskier’s in his head.

_Such a good wolf, Eskel. Going to fuck you until you break._

“ _Please,_ ” Eskel sobs, and then the leshen’s cock is sinking back into him, slick and too big and textured. Eskel spasms, legs kicking as his cock drools – somehow, impossibly, he’s still hard, still wants to come again even though his hips and balls ache and he _knows_ it’ll hurt. He clenches with each bump and knot, the sensation intense as they sink into his body, somehow still stretching his rim out as they pop inside.

He knows he’s making noise, beginning wordlessly and moaning and sobbing as tears streak down his temples, but he’s barely aware of it. All he can focus on is the feeling of Jaskier’s cock, the irregular texture shocking him with each change, the feeling when Jaskier sinks all the way inside and Eskel is certain he’s going to choke on the head of him. And then Jaskier starts to move for real, thrusting in and out and in and out, Eskel’s hole making nasty, wet sounds around his cock.

Eskel sobs, he _screams,_ and somehow, _somehow,_ he’s coming again. But there’s no comedown, no _end,_ just sharp, overwhelming pleasure that builds and builds and _builds,_ until he’s going dizzy, vision blacking out with each brutal, deep thrust from Jaskier’s cock.

The ground underneath him shakes as Jaskier _growls,_ the sound all in Eskel’s head except where it’s not, and then the leshen is coming. He feels the heat of it, the _thickness –_ it’s so much, bloating his belly around where Jaskier’s cock is already distending it.

“Oh, fuck, Jaskier,” Eskel mumbles, vision finally going totally black as he swears he feels liquid crawling up his throat.

* * *

He wakes up with his mouth as dry as the desert but tasting sickly sweet, laid in a sort of…nest. His eyelids are heavy and opening them is a struggle, but he finds it worth it when he finally manages it.

Jaskier is sitting in front of him. Jaskier the bard, small, human. Or, at least, human shaped. He’s pretty and wide-eyed and staring at Eskel as if he hung the damn moon.

“Eskel,” he says softly.

Eskel tries to say his name back, but finds his voice is completely gone, not even a croak left. All he can manage is a bit of a whistle, and Jaskier laughs, eyes lighting up.

“You’re _perfect,_ ” he says. “All of you are, but – _fuck,_ Eskel.”

Eskel just grins and tips his head back against the soft leaves he’s bedded down in, and lets himself doze off once more.


End file.
